The Battle of Duro
by Rooty
Summary: The Separatists plan to strike at the important world of Duro. Meanwhile Anakin and ObiWan prepare for their chance to eliminate the Republic's two most dangerous foes.
1. Deception

"It is ready, Count." General Grievous' harsh, booming voice echoed around the bridge of the battlecruiser _Violator_, and the bridge crew seemed to cower away from their monstrous leader.

"Excellent, General. You may begin the attack at once." The hologram of Count Dooku, the charismatic Separatist leader, fizzled away to nothing.

Grievous moved to the controls of the warship, and his four robotic arms reached forward and deftly activated the _Violator_'s hyperdrive, sending the ship rocketing towards its target, with the rest of Grievous' fleet not far behind. The campaign to take Duro had begun.

*        *        *

On the bitter, acrid planet Duro, the Bothan agent Traekis Kre'lya ducked into the shadows as a squad of fully armoured clone troopers marched past, patrolling the bleak corridors of the Republic base situated on the planet's surface. Over many centuries Duro had become an industrial and technological graveyard, and eventually as the native Duros fouled the planet's atmosphere, the inhabitants constructed many orbital cities to live in, abandoning their wrecked homeworld.

Kre'lya couldn't resist a sly smirk. _These clones are almost as stupid as their progenitor!_ Kre'lya had once worked with Jango Fett himself, tried to betray the bounty hunter, failed, and as a result the Mandalorian had refused to pay Kre'lya his share of the profits. Even though the Bothan had been lucky to get away with his life, he had ever since held a grudge against Fett – and intended to get his revenge by wiping out the clone army that Jango was paid so well for. 

Effortlessly, the experienced infiltrator slipped through the shade, looking for an air vent through which he might slip through. There would be Jedi closer to the control room: clones he could handle, but Jedi were the problem. He had tried to obtain a Force-blocking ysalamiri, but the Republic fleet had blockaded Myrkr heavily, in order to protect the Jedi's greatest weakness. 

His fur helped him slide through the cramped vent, and he silently dropped into the tractor beam control room. Two clones were operating the many tractor beams that controlled the huge cargo transfer system: Duro was a vital trade hub for Republic war materiel. He aimed his slender wrist gauntlet at the clones, and fired a pair of spiked poison darts. The clones fell, killed instantly. _Take that, Fett-spawn!_

Kre'lya's nimble fingers got to work reconfiguring the system, aiming the tractors at one of the huge orbital cities floating high overhead. With all the beams locked on, he prepared to activate the final button, the key which would spell the beginning of the end for Duro.

"And so it begins," gloated the Bothan, revelling in the moment. "from Duro the Separatist army will have an easy road to Coruscant!" His furry finger shot towards the vital control.

It never made it. Kre'lya was thrown backwards across the room, yanked by some sort of invisible energy force. _Miniaturised tractor beam?_ The answer became obvious as he rolled towards the door, where a Jedi Knight stood, lightsaber blazing.

*        *        *

The fleet of twelve battlecruisers decanted from hyperspace at the edge of the Hapan shipyard world, Releq. Ten disk-shaped battle dragons sat in place above the ship forges, the jewels of the Hapan fleet. Immediately after the Confederacy fleet arrived in system, five of the Hapan ships left formation and began drifting towards the Separatist force.

Aboard the flagship dragon _Blade of Death_, the ship's main comlink activated. "This is Admiral Dolrath of Hapan High Command, what in the name of the Chume'da do you think you're playing at?" 

The grizzled captain of the _Blade_ made a gruff reply. "Sorry Dolrath, but we're defecting. Dooku's paying us well for this."

"You'll pay, traitor," replied Dolrath. The captain was suddenly rocked to the floor, as the five loyal dragons opened fire on the turncoats.

Across the gulf of space, aboard the _Violator_, General Grievous stared intently at a holographic battle map. "Move the fleet in to cover the defectors. Count Dooku has something special planned for these Hapan cruisers."

By now Admiral Dolrath had arrived in the sector, bringing with him twenty Hapes _Nova_-class battle cruisers, each one armed with twenty five turbolasers and two squadrons of Miy'til fighters. The bird-like starfighters streamed from the launch bays at the rear of the cruiser, pouring down onto the rogue battle dragons. The Miy'til fighters were well armed, each one carrying a payload of sixteen thermal detonators that could act as space bombs. However their shields were weak and offensive fire from the fleeing dragons tore great holes into the Hapan fighter formations.

A swarm of droid fighters joined the fray, cutting across the Hapan flight paths and destroying a great number of Miy'til fighters. The droid fighters were nimble and fast, dodging return fire, and the flock of ships cut around for another pass.

Aboard the lead Miy'til, _Kalanor's Wrath_, Commander Kalanor, widely acknowledged as the best pilot in Hapan space, ordered his squadron to form up. "We need to thin out these droid fighters," he commanded, "so that we can bring in the Hetrinar bombers!" Slow and sluggish, the Hetrinar bombers were top of the range fighter ships designed to assault capital ships. They would make light work of the battle dragons, but they needed a free run at their targets. 

The eight Miy'til fighters – four of Kalanor's elite men had already been vaped – targeted one wing of sixty droids, and Kalanor unleashed a cloud of thermal detonators into the midst of the droid formation. Fiery explosions ripped a hole in the middle of the droid configuration, and the Miy'til fighters ripped into the midst of combat. His three laser cannons fire-linked together, Kalanor's finger pumped his trigger, taking out one droid, swinging the ship around to target another, blasting it…within seconds the formidable droid formation wasn't even fit for a Jawa.

"Good work men," Kalanor whooped, "we've turned the tide of the battle! We've got Hetrinar bombers…"__

*        *        *

"…deploying at Oh-Two-Six, General!"

Aboard the _Violator_, Grievous shuddered with rage. One squadron had taken out sixty droids? And now with a squad of Hetrinar bombers inbound…Dooku had made it clear that he wanted, _needed_, these Hapan warships, at any cost.

"Increase speed!" he roared, "We have to get to the battle and cover our starships!"

"General," replied the _Violator_'s captain, a pudgy Sullustan named Kneb Knor, "Our engines are already running at 105% efficiency. If we push them any more they'll simply blow out on us!"

A more foolish leader might have ordered an acceleration nonetheless, but Grievous was not foolish. He stared out at the battle, thinking, and then an idea formed. "Contact our dragons. Tell them to initiate their hyperdrives. And plot us a course straight for the battle."

*        *        *

"Admiral Dolrath, the rogue dragons are trying to hit hyperspace!"

"This close to Releq's gravity well? They're mad! They'll blow us all to bits! Quickly, have the _Warstride_ launch a pulse mass mine."

Dolrath watched through the large viewport of his cruiser as one of the loyal battleships loosed a small, spherical warhead into space. The mine hung there, pulsating weakly with an electrical energy, while it spread an interdiction field, preventing the rogue dragons from hitting hyperspace.

"Admiral! The Confederacy fleet is jumping!"

"Ha! Looks like we scared them all away."

"No, they're headed _towards_ us…"

"What? No ship can make a micro-jump through that small a distance…oh sithspawn!" He suddenly realised the enemy plan. They were going to use the pulse mass mine to pull them out of hyperspace, and right into the battle. "Destroy that pulse mass mine!" he bellowed, but it was too late – the Separatist fleet was already on top of them.

*        *        *

"Sithspit!" cursed Kalanor, veering sharply away from the war cruiser that had suddenly, inexplicably, just _appeared_ in front of him and his squadron. The intense G-Force pushed him back into his seat, and warning lights lit up his cockpit display, showing that six squadron members had been unable to evade and ploughed straight into the monolith.

"Guess that just leaves you and me, huh, Forlan?" He would mourn the dead later. First he had to get rid of these damn Seppies! Why were they concentrating on the Hapes cluster, the one place in the Galaxy where the Republic did not hold sway?

"Boss," came Forlan's desperate voice, "this is bad news! I'm being swarmed by fighters, ten, twenty, fifty…boss! I need help boss!"

Kalanor drove his fighter towards Forlan, his lightning reflexes taking out droid after droid after droid. He grinned, "Don't worry Forlan, you're not going to die today!" He spun his ship through a swift roll, taking out three separate fighters with one triple blast, taking the Miy'til through a dazzling array of manoeuvres.

"Yeehaa!" called Forlan, "I'm buying the drinks when we get back home, boss!" His elation turned to a scream of pain, however, as a concussion missile turned his fighter into a burning wreck.

"Forlan!" screamed Kalanor, targeting the ship that had destroyed his wingmate and good friend. _Strange design_, he noticed, _looks like a flying wheel!_ The wheel-shaped fighter seemed to roll through space, four heavy laser cannons slaughtering any ship that went too close. _Damn that guy's good! _It soon became clear that Kalanor was the only pilot with skill enough to take him. "Everyone support Dolrath's cruisers as they attack the big ships. I'm on the leader!"

Taking the _Kalanor's Wrath_ on a sharp path towards the wheel, Kalanor fired his last two detonator rockets, only to see them deflected by the enemy's powerful shields. The wheel span 90 degrees, becoming a sort of disk, and two ion engines lit up, propelling the ship away, towards the largest cruiser, which Kalanor's targeting computer identified as the _Violator_. 

Cruising at blinding speed, Kalanor dogged the wheel-ship as it rocketed towards the _Violator_, dodging incoming laser fire and returning it whenever he could – which wasn't often. The enemy pilot seemed to second-guess his every move, and Kalanor found it a challenge to even keep a targeting lock on the foe.

They were in close to the cruiser now, well past the fire arcs of the turbolasers – but in range of the point defense cannons, which threw up bright sparks of crimson energy, threatening to burn through Kalanor's shields and frag his ship. Still, Kalanor relentlessly pursued his foe, skimming just meters above the surface of the _Violator_, dodging pylons and radar dishes, operating on pure intuition. 

Then the mysterious foe drove straight into one of the hangar arms, almost daring Kalanor to follow.

*        *        *

Aboard his personal starfighter, Grievous laughed. _Humans are too predictable_, he thought, _they will readily abandon the greater fight in search of further glory. This one hopes to take me down, it is time for him to learn a lesson!_

"Pursuing craft, this is General Grievous. You have much skill, but it will not be enough. I commend you for your tenacity, and I am proud to be the one who sent you to your death."

"It's you who is going to be dying, Grievous!" came the frustrated reply, "You've killed your last Hapan!"

"How wrong you are," the General replied, and swung his starfighter deeper into the bowels of the cruiser, heading towards the power reactor.

*        *        *

Beams of pure energy reached from one wall to the other, skimming across Kalanor's shields, draining energy faster than a horde of mynocks. Soon, Kalanor's shields had failed and the power beams began to eat away at his hull. And ahead of him, Grievous continued, seemingly taking no damage! 

Kalanor was just starting to regret chasing Grievous, when the enemy fighter turned on a credit piece, and unleashed his payload onto the _Kalanor's Wrath_, completely vaporising the Hapan fighter.

*        *        *

Grievous brought himself out of the cruiser with ease, entering a battle that was virtually over. The _Nova_ cruisers flamed in their death throes, dropping down towards the grey-green gem that was Releq, and the five loyal battle dragons had collapsed, lying motionless in space. Wreckages of Miy'til fighters lay strewn about Hapan space, and the captured Hapan ships were pulling out.

"General, we've won the day," Kneb Knor's stutter crackled through the comlink, "the fleet is pulling back to the staging point at Kal'bari, and the Hapan shipyards are in ruins."

"There were no survivors?"

"No, General."

"Good. If the Republic find out about this before we launch the first attack…"

The implications hung, both men aware of the repercussions if Duro did not fall.

*        *        *

His arms pinned in place by a restrictive field generator, Traekis Kre'lya struggled to escape the invisible bonds that pinned him to the wall of the detention cells. Even if he had managed to break free of the generator beam, however, his interrogators mystical powers would have held him fast.

"You won't get anything from me, Jedi," Kre'lya croaked, his voice sore from too many days without water. "I thought your order was supposed to value compassion and fairness? You've…kept me here for almost a week now, with now nourishment!"

His captor, a tall human male with a shoulder-length mane of golden hair and a clean face, grinned. "We haven't killed you yet," he offered, chuckling to himself.

"If I could, I would spit in your face."

Abruptly, the Jedi's face darkened and a burning pain stung Kre'lya's cheeks as the Jedi struck him, reddening his fur. "Do not show insolence to a Jedi!" the monster before him roared, and punched the hanging Bothan in the chest, winding him.

"Isn't this sort of thing forbidden by your Council?" wheezed Kre'lya, catching his breath. "Some Republic this is, if even the Jedi are corrupt."

The Knight took deep, calming breaths, regaining his composure. "I…I never truly finished my training. But my Master was killed on the battlefields of Mantooine…"

"And with the Jedi numbers dwindling, the Council promoted you to Knight? Even though you're still liable to fly off the hook every now and again?"

Rage took over once again, and the Jedi let fly with a volley of punches. "Silence, whelp! This is my interrogation!" Reaching deep into the Force, the Jedi entered Kre'lya's mind and began to draw away his very thoughts.

*        *        *

Kal'bari was a jewel of a world, with vast rolling plains and beautiful vistas. It was no wonder that Count Dooku, a lover of luxury, had chosen to construct a small estate in the planet's loving embrace, a sanctuary to which he could retreat and plan his war.

A red sky framed the grassland as Dooku rode through the willowy meadow astride an arthidoc, a dignified creature native to Kal'bari. Four muscular legs propelled the arthidoc across the plains, and the beast's keen eyes were able to spot even the slightest movement, making the creatures exceptional tracking tools. Dooku enjoyed big game hunting; it gave him a chance to exercise his power and natural right to dominate others. For that was the way of the Dark Side, those who truly understand power bow to no-one. The arthidoc brayed, and Dooku aimed his traditional Kal'bari hunting musket, an archaic weapon that fired energy propelled slugs, sending a single blast that tore through the air and felled a docile beldoth, towering reptilian creatures that fed on greenery and plants.

The wind flying through his noble white hair, Dooku brought his arthidoc to a halt and leapt from his steed, landing beside the fallen beldoth. _A most laudable catch_, he thought, as he sliced through the beast's slender neck, removing its head, and bagged his prize. _Mounted correctly, this will fit in my antechamber nicely. _As he returned to the arthidoc, however, he heard a deep roar behind him, turning to see a pair of malicious galastan burst from the foliage, obviously attracted by the scent of rotting meat. Bipedal creatures with thick green scales and sharp maws, galastan beasts were top of the food chain on Kal'bari. But for Dooku, they merely presented a chance to further hone his skills.

With athleticism that belied his age, Dooku somersaulted over the two raging beasts, unsheathed his Sith lightsaber, and with a long sweep cleaved the larger predator in two. He ducked instinctively, narrowly avoiding a thin stream of paralysing venom, before striking forth, pressing the attack and decapitating the second foe.

Dooku returned to his hunt.

*        *        *

Grievous was waiting for him at the estate, the cyborg commander sheathed in a spotless white cape, wrapped around his droid body. "The battle dragons await in orbit, Count," began Grievous, "I already have a crew repairing the damage – and preparing the ships with the insignia of Ta'a Chume herself."

Dooku smiled, and laughed. "Excellent, General. I could not have planned this better myself. I have several star cruisers inbound, ready to join your fleet. In the meantime, let us plan the first strike at Duro. I trust your Hapan stooge knows little of the plan?"

"He is under the impression that we merely wanted the battle dragons due to their military might, Count," replied Grievous, "and it shall remain that way until he goes to his fiery death."

*        *        *

_Okay_, thought Kre'lya, during a respite from one of the beatings, _this is _not _a good day! _Then the Jedi's fist smashed into his face once again, and there was nothing but pain.

"You killed my master!" yelled the Jedi Knight, "and for that I'm going to tear you apart hair by hair!"

"Look," gasped Kre'lya, "it was a job! Just a job! It's war! People get killed! I killed your master…"

Another punch.

Blood dripping across his face, Kre'lya continued. "I killed your master so that I could bag more clones! I killed your master because I was _ordered_ to!"

At least Kre'lya knew _why_ he was being treated like a bag of rotten meat. After the Jedi had stolen his thoughts, he had hung in a void, limp, until the pain woke him up: the pain of having his face smashed to pieces by an angry fist. But as the Jedi exuded hate and rage, and the air thickened with emotion, Kre'lya's memory had slowly seeped back into his consciousness, piece by piece.

_The sooner I kill this guy, the better! He's gone psycho! _Struck by sudden inspiration, Kre'lya endured another barrage before gabbling, "Some way you pay back your master's honour! By beating me like a punchbag! You've proven nothing. If you truly want to avenge your master, you'll fight me, one on one. Otherwise, you're defiling your master's memory."

The beating stopped, and the Jedi stood back, chest heaving, eyes clouded with rage. _Okay, maybe this wasn't such a good idea! He's either going to fall for the bait, but more than likely he'll kill me now._

Kre'lya sighed with relief as he felt the bonds slacken, and he slid to the floor, grateful to have a moment of rest. But he could spare not a second! Lifting himself onto his feet, he raked the Jedi's face with his sharp Bothan claws, bundled the Knight over, and charged out of the room. Using his hatred to fuel his strike, he threw his fist into the clone trooper guard, grabbed the soldier's rifle, and fired several times. Disorientated by his captivity, Kre'lya had to jack into a computer panel and access a station map. To his surprise, he found himself not too far away from the tractor beam station. _No stupid speeches this time, Kre'lya! _He hurriedly aimed the tractors high overhead, and then slapped his paw down onto the master control panel. He fired several times into the panel, frying the controls beyond repair, and turned to face the angry Jedi who burst in through the door, lightsaber raised high, ready to strike.

"We really ought to stop meeting like this," Kre'lya rasped. _Heck, if those are going to be my last words, at least they were good ones!_

A scream of rage accompanied the flashing blade that severed the Bothan's head. As if staring at what he had done, the rogue Jedi began to weep, until he was crushed by the falling station, and by the Dark Side.


	2. Forced Hands

The Jedi Master Plo Koon was fast carving out a name for himself as one of the greatest fleet commanders in the Republic, a solid tactician who could be counted on to gain victory. But even the great Master himself was wary about the upcoming battle.

In the briefing room of the _Acclamator-_cruiser C_ourage_ sat General Obi-Wan Kenobi, Lieutenant Anakin Skywalker, two elite ARC troopers and the captain of each of the six ships in the Duro task force. Also present was the Jedi strategist Oppo Rancicis, his hologram broadcasting from the Jedi Council chambers on faraway Coruscant.

Plo Koon stood at the pulpit, backed by the dead world of Duro spinning lifelessly in space. A Kel Dor, Koon had to wear a rebreather mask to protect his alien form from harmful oxygen. Speaking through the device, his voice had a tinny quality. 

"Our intelligence for this operation is severely limited," Koon announced gravely. "In fact the only thing we do know is that last week, the orbital city of Jaratuu was pulled down onto the Republic outpost on the planet, killing the Jedi Knight Saras Amn and several hundred clone troopers. This all points to one thing: the precursor to Separatist invasion."

"If the Confederacy holds Duro, that will put them in reach of Coruscant itself," mused Kenobi.

Koon nodded. "Master Rancicis and I have tried to devise a strategy that would allow us to repel any attack on Duro, but with severely limited intelligence we were unable to come up with any solid plan. For all we know, this move could be a feint by the Confederacy, an attempt to draw six cruisers out of the war zones.

"No," said Lieutenant Skywalker, abruptly. "The Separatists are going to strike here. I can feel it."

"I don't suppose your Jedi powers can tell us the location of the enemy fleet, or when they plan to strike?" asked one of the ARC troopers, sarcastically.

"I sense it too!" said Obi-Wan, just as the bridge officer burst into the room.

"General Koon!" he cried, "five new contacts entering the system!"

"This is what we've been waiting for!" announced Plo, "Captains, get to your cruisers and may the Force be with us." As the crowd dispersed, Plo turned to the officer. "Separatists?" he asked.

"No," trembled the bridge officer, "Hapans!"

*        *        *

Cruising out of the _Courage_, Anakin was surprised to see the disk-shaped forms of five Hapan battle dragons driving their way into the Duro system. Through his starfighter's comlink, he contacted his master aboard the _Courage_. "Master, do you think the Hapans have allied themselves with the Separatists?"

Obi-Wan's reply was terse, worried. "No, I don't see how that could happen…the Hapans are fiercely neutral."

"Yet there they are, attacking us." That was General Koon's voice.

"My scanners aren't picking up any Separatist support vessels. It looks like they're operating alone. Permission to engage, General Koon?"

"Permission granted, Lieutenant Skywalker. If the Hapans are planning on attacking us, it's time to teach them a lesson they won't forget."

"I'll inform the Jedi Council about this development," said Obi-Wan, sounding shaken.

*        *        *

Seated in the lavish war room Dooku had installed in his Kal'bari estate, Grievous watched a holographic representation of Duro space, with five green friendlies – the battle dragons – facing six large red markers – the _Acclamator_ ships – and countless smaller dots, each one representing an individual starfighter.

"The forces seem to be evenly matched, Count," Grievous declared, pacing from side to side, keeping both eyes on the battle. "Although the Republic has the advantage in numbers, the Hapan battle dragons are formidable weapons."

Dooku nodded, engrossed in the battle. Eventually, he jabbed a finger at the centremost _Acclamator_ ship. "Have the battle dragons concentrate their fire on this cruiser," he ordered, "even if we're going to be losing this battle, we may as well take down a few Republic ships with us."

Grievous gave the order.

*        *        *

"Did you see that?" exclaimed Obi-Wan, staring out of the _Courage_'s main viewport at the burning hull of the _Elegy_. "Those battle dragons are too powerful!"

"In a straight fight, we could never hope to beat them, even with our fighter escorts. But Hapan ships have painfully slow firing rates, and poor targeting computers. Disperse the remaining warships in a scatter formation, General."

"I'll give the order."

*        *        *

"Master, we're stretched too thin as it is! If we abandon formation, then we've no chance against these Hapans!"

"General Koon seems to think differently. He says that their targeting computers will fail."

"I don't care! We need to stay together and coordinate our attacks! What chance has one fighter got against one of those cruisers?"

"Lieutenant Skywalker, this is a direct order! Break formation and swarm the dragons!"

"Yes, General," spat Anakin Skywalker, as frustration took over.

*        *        *

Aboard the foremost Hapan cruiser, _Wardog_, the fair-haired Captain Tarlasis ran a hand across his handsome features and paused to consider his options.

"Captain, two _Acclamators,_ approaching us from either side!"

"Target them both, take them both down!"

"Sir, our targeting computers are having a little…"

"Just do it!"

The shots flew painfully wide of their intended targets, dissipating into nothingness.

*        *        *     

_Looks like General Koon's tactic is working_, thought Anakin, as he took his lone starfighter in closer to one of the huge battle dragons. _But it's time to show the Generals that Anakin Skywalker is always right!_ Putting a thrust of energy into his twin engines, he dove between the sandwiched disks and closer to the heart of the dragon itself. Dodging the point-blank range defense turrets with inexplicable skill, Anakin flew around the centre of the dragon in a tight circle, blasting away at the saucer rotation struts, leaving the dragon sagging dangerously under its own weight, before loosing two proton torpedoes at the point where the two disks connected.

Fleeing from the fiery explosion, Anakin's ship rode the shockwave as he screamed, "Woohoo!" He'd just taken down, single handedly, one of the most impressive warships in the galaxy. He could do anything. And no one, not a General of the Republic, not his Master, could stop him.

*        *        *

The Hapan fleet was in disarray, down to only a pair of battle dragons and both of them failing, badly, about to be destroyed.

Count Dooku was content. "The ruse is almost complete. I shall inform my master on Coruscant, and he will see to it that the Republic forces withdraw from Duro."

Grievous nodded, clenching his fist in triumph. "I shall prepare my fleet at once. Duro longs for freedom."

*        *        *

With the battle over, with all five Hapan cruisers demolished, General Plo Koon and General Kenobi awaited further orders from Coruscant. When their next mission finally came, however, it proved to be a great surprise.

"It is most distressing to hear that the Hapans have apparently sided with the enemy," began the hologram of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, transmitting from his stately office, "and this development could turn the tide of the war. General Koon, I would have you take all combat worthy ships stationed at Duro to the Hapes consortium, and force them to back down."

"This will be an unprecedented move, Chancellor," said Plo, well aware of the implications. "The Republic has never before made an attack on a neutral system."

"Your orders still stand, General," snapped Palpatine, "for the good of the Republic you must have the faith to carry them out."

"Am I to accompany General Koon to the Hapan sector?" enquired Obi-Wan.

"No, Master Kenobi, I would like you and your apprentice to remain on Duro, and re-establish the trade outpost. Might I ask, how is young Anakin?"

"Oh, fine," replied Obi-Wan, puzzled by Palpatine's vested interest in his apprentice, "still recovering a little from the battle."

"Oh yes, I have heard about his exploits against the _Wardog_. No doubt he will be commended greatly for his efforts."

"No doubt," said Obi-Wan, a little too sarcastically. "Kenobi, out."

*        *        *

Moments after the final _Acclamator_ left Duro, headed for the crusade at Hapes, another sixteen ships entered the sector – Separatist battle cruisers, heading for Duro itself.

Down on the planet, Obi-Wan was furious. "We've been deceived," he sighed, "the Hapan force must have been some sort of diversion. I only hope that Plo Koon's fleet isn't heading into a trap."

Beside him, his apprentice studied a battle map intently. "This is big, Master," he gasped, "that ship there is the _Violator_. That's General Grievous' flagship!"

"Dooku is here too, I can sense him. Anakin, contact the Jedi Council. Tell them that both Grievous and Dooku are present at Duros – quickly, quickly! This could be a chance to end this war!"

Two minutes later, Anakin returned from the communications booth, part of the light prefab base they had unloaded from the _Courage_. "It is done, Master. General Windu is on his way, and General Koon's forces have been diverted back."

Obi-Wan nodded. "Good job. Now we just need to hold them off long enough for our reinforcements to arrive. We've still got the fighters from the _Elegy_ stationed at Bburru; we can use them to engage the Separatist fleet." Kenobi's voice changed, became softer. "Anakin, this may be the turning point of the war. Can't you feel it?"

The Padawan shook his head. "All I can feel is death."


	3. The Battle of Duro

Forty snubfighters against an entire fleet. This was going to be _tricky_. But for Anakin Skywalker, there was no fight that he couldn't win.

First report up from the planet: two hours and counting until the first reinforcements arrive. _That's two hours for us to do the impossible. A lot of us are going to die in the next two hours, and if we can't keep the Confederacy at bay it will all be for nothing._

_May the Force be with us all._

Anakin watched as roughly three hundred droid starfighters gushed from the hangar bays of the Separatist cruisers, sharp daggers headed for the Republic fighter screen. The Republic ships, mostly tri-winged V-19 Torrent starfighters, rose to intercept, and a great furball erupted. In his tweaked Jedi starfighter, Anakin zipped around the fighter melee, seeming to be in every place at once, blasting droids and covering his wingmen. Taking the azure ship out of the raging battle, he made a sharp loop around the nearest orbital city, Orr-Om, picking up speed before he once again plunged into the fight. A cobalt blur, Anakin whooped with exhilaration as he dumped a proton torpedo into a cluster of droid fighters, tore through the raging explosion, and vaped another droid in a head-to-head contest.

But even Anakin's mastery of his ship couldn't turn the tide, and slowly the droid fighters began to overwhelm the V-19s. With only twenty-five ships left active, flying against well over two hundred droids, Anakin decided that it was time for a change in strategy. Opening a squadron-wide communications channel, he ordered, "Everyone follow me in closer to the city. We'll benefit from it's shields and laser turrets."

The Republic squadrons raced in towards Orr-Om, with the droids in fast pursuit. A thundering boom rocked the heavens as the eighteen defensive turbolasers aboard Orr-Om roared into action, swatting away groups of droids like mere flitnats.

"It's working!" laughed Anakin, "One and a half hours to go…come on men, we could win this one!"

Beyond the furball, with the space lanes now unobstructed, the Separatist cruisers moved in closer to the planet, deploying the troops.

*        *        *

"What's he up to?" exclaimed Obi-Wan, "He's giving the warships a chance to get closer to the planet!" Kenobi groped for his comlink, and paged his wayward apprentice. "Anakin! Anakin, do you read me? What in the blazes do you think you're doing?"

"Moving in for more cover, Master," came the crackling reply.

Obi-Wan almost scoffed. "Not only are you putting the citizens of Orr-Om in danger, you've given the Separatists a free run at the planet!" 

Obi-Wan could hear Anakin hesitating, and in his mind could see the young boy's face, reddening with the realisation that he'd made a grave mistake. "Uh…I didn't think, master…I'm…I'm sorry…"

"No time for that!" snapped Kenobi, "We've got droids inbound." The General sighed. "Get back to the planet, Anakin. The space battle is over. I only hope the ground defense fares better!"

*        *        *

Kenobi had twenty precious minutes, in which he had the eight hundred clones attached to the base dig out a large trench network that surrounded the installation, whilst temporary laser turrets and shield generators were erected to further protect the base. His apprentice got to work loading a battered freighter in case of emergency evacuation, whilst the remaining sixteen pilots were sent on patrols, looking for the enemy landing site.

Amidst this chaos, Obi-Wan tried to formulate a plan. "This is going to be very bloody," he announced to the base's commander, "we're going to lose a lot of men in this battle."

"We do not fear death," replied the clone, blandly. "It's not part of our genetic structure."

"You may be willing to die, Commander, but I am loath to order this defense, this last stand. Many troopers will die. You may be a clone, yes, but does that make you any less of a person?"

The clone stirred, clearly a little uncomfortable with this soul searching. "I'm a soldier, General, not a philosopher. I was bred to fight, and fighting is what I do best."

Obi-Wan nodded. He wasn't going to get much conversation out of a clone trooper. As the man had said, he was designed for fighting and killing and little more. Still, he was uncomfortable with the idea of this heroic defense. Even if the clones were willing to die in the name of the Republic, did that make his orders – the orders that would send them to their graves – more acceptable?

The Jedi looked at the dirty skies far overhead, seemed to peer through the smog, and saw the forms of Dooku and Grievous overhead. This was the Republic's chance, their opportunity to capture – kill, if need be – the two most influential leaders of the Confederacy. Yes, many men would die here today – but if Dooku and Grievous were allowed to escape, even more would be slaughtered, and not just soldiers – innocents too. This slaughter was a necessary evil, but still Obi-Wan found no solace.

*        *        *

Through the noxious haze came dark, skeletal shadows, which resolved themselves into the tan frames of Separatist battle droids. Line after line of the destructive automatons marched toward Duro Outpost, backed up by trowel-shaped assault tanks and four-legged spider droids, in total outnumbering the Republic defenders by at least five to one.

Ordinarily, the regiment of clone troopers stationed in the furthermost trench would have opened fire on the invaders long ago, but General Kenobi had come up with a different plan for this operation. The toxic atmosphere of the wasteland planet Duro hampered the sensitive battle droid photoreceptors, reducing visibility to only a few meters. Because of this, the clones in the trench were simply able to crouch down, and thus appear invisible. Oblivious of the trench's existence, the droid army simply marched forth – until the forward line tumbled unceremoniously into the muddy trough. Surprised by this, the droid ranks halted, their tiny processors struggling to decide their next move, while the clone soldiers leapt up and began tearing down the startled droids, a thick hail of bright blue laser fire plummeting into the droid lines.

Then the return fire came, and the massacre began.

*        *        *

Wearing a jet black helmet to protect himself from Duro's corrosive atmosphere, Anakin Skywalker rushed to join the troops in the front line. The droid army had already passed over the first trench, and the next squad of defenders were close to being driven back. Anakin dived over the deep trench, using his lightsaber to turn away incoming laser blasts, protecting the clones, until through the corner of his eye he spotted about twenty droids moving towards his left flank. Turning a little to keep them in check, Anakin realised that whilst this division preoccupied him and his deadly lightsaber, the AAT tanks were moving in to finish off the defending clones. With a cry of rage, Anakin lunged forwards, cleaving three droids with a single stroke of his weapon, using his energy and momentum to launch a startlingly quick offensive on the flanking droids. Constantly spinning and flipping, he tore through the droids in a matter of seconds. Breathing heavily, he summoned the power that his frenzy afforded him and unleashed a blast of energy at the marauding AAT tank. The vehicle rocked sideways, almost keeling over, before slamming back into the ground, incapacitated.

The clones clambered out of the trench, driving forward at the AAT-sized gap in the droid formation, splitting the droid army and rounding up the survivors. The unit commander ran over to Anakin and gave the Lieutenant a nod. "Thanks for the assistance, sir. We were close to being overrun."

"What is the status of the battle?"

"The droid army is attacking in the separate arms – a small strike at each flank, and a main, head-on strike. Thanks to you we've taken out the right flanking force, but our left flank is being overrun…"

"Take your men, sergeant, go and reinforce the left flank."

"General Kenobi's orders are for us to stay here and guard against any further…"

"Sergeant, I gave you an order! Go and reinforce the flank!" 

"With all due respect, Lieutenant Skywalker, the General outranks you…"

"Reinforce the left flank!" screamed Skywalker, drawing from his rage, using the Force to enter the clone's mind and burn the command into his very mind. The power, the absolute control he had…seething, Anakin filtered through the pathetic beings petty thoughts, his experiences, his memories. But as Anakin's temper calmed, his grip on the sergeant faltered. Both men stood, dazed.

"We'll go and reinforce the flank immediately!" said the clone at last, stumbling across the thought Anakin had implanted.

"Good," was all Anakin managed to say, before he fainted on the ground.

*        *        *

While the trenches were hampering the smaller flanking units, no amount of fancy spadework and glorified potholes was going to slow down the colossal main attack force, so Obi-Wan had chosen to engage them in full force. Clad in clone trooper armour, so as to protect himself from the toxic surroundings, General Kenobi stood atop a turtle-like AT-TE walker as the beast lumbered into battle. Friendly starfighters made low strafing runs on the droid army from overhead, but a storm was crackling in the upper clouds, restricting the effectiveness of the usually nimble V-19s. 

"Keep a solid front line," commanded Obi-Wan through the helmet comlink, "as long as we don't let any droids through we should be able to hold out for another hour!" Checking his chrono, Obi-Wan saw that there was in fact only forty-five minute remaining. Forty five minutes not to get slaughtered.

"Watch out," called Obi-Wan, "AAT tanks moving in!"

"They outrange anything we've got, General," reported one of the clone troopers, "we can't hit them without sending forces forward!"

"Yet if we move to attack, we'll break our lines," mused Kenobi. "Can the fighter squadrons hit the tanks?"

"Negative, General. The atmosphere is too unstable. We're going to have to come to ground."

Obi-Wan sighed, caught in the enemy commander's trap. "Well we can't just sit here and let those tanks bombard us to death. Move two squads to disable the tanks, but don't leave the lines open." Staring at his tactical map, Obi-Wan shuddered. "I have a bad feeling about this."

*        *        *

"The tactic is working," observed Dooku, "we've forced General Kenobi's hand. He's opening his lines! Full attack!"

"I'm more concerned about that state of our right flank," grumbled Grievous, "One unit has turned the tide of that battle!"

Dooku looked at the battle map, and concentrated, listening to the Force. Surprisingly, he smiled. "Ah, yes, young Skywalker. My master tells me that his skills are unparalleled by any Jedi in the order."

Grievous nodded. He had seen Skywalker in action before, and had great respect for the boy. "He would be a worthy kill, Count."

"Indeed, but no mere droid can destroy the Chosen One…we'll have to engage him personally."

"I can do that," nodded Grievous, flexing his four arms. It had been too long since he'd killed a Jedi.

*        *        *

Anakin awoke to a nightmare.

The _Solar Sailor_, personal transport of Count Dooku, was plunging through the rolling clouds, cutting through the turbulent atmosphere, and landing beside him. Leaping up, Anakin peered through the visor on his mask to see not Dooku, but General Grievous emerge from the sculptured craft.

"Grievous!" he spat, igniting his lightsaber. The enemy General just laughed, and drew a single blade. The pair circled each other for a heartbeat, and Anakin edged closer, pointing his saber at the General's neck. "I'm going to kill you, Grievous. I am going to tear your head from your vile robotic neck, and mount it on a spike for all to see!" Once again, Grievous simply laughed.

"Don't mock me!" screamed Anakin, and lunged for an attack. Grievous parried the strike with ease, pushed Skywalker's blade away, and brought his arm round in a sweeping loop, forcing Anakin to retreat. As the General pressed forth, Anakin felt sweat trickling down his face as he moved to intercept each of the lightning thrusts, desperately looking for an opportunity to turn the tide and make an attack. He soon got his chance, locking sabers with the General and using the pause to make a mighty kick at Grievous' face. In reply, the General simply drew a second weapon and spun the two lightsabers above his head before making a blinding chain of strikes, his dual weapons threatening to overwhelm Anakin and his single saber.

And was that _Dooku_ exiting the _Sailor_?

*        *        * 

"Well, this is a mess!" called Obi-Wan, hoarsely, his voice sore from exposure to the putrid atmosphere. His helmet lay on the floor, trampled and smashed beyond recognition, as more and more droids streamed through the break in the lines. Exhaustion plagued every muscle in Kenobi's body as he made mighty swings at passing droids. Only by drawing deeply into the Force was he able to keep from passing out. 

"General, enemy units approaching from the left flank!" called the clone commander, marooned in a sea of battle droids. "Standard attack formation!"

Obi-Wan thought about his next move. _The Separatists are hoping to catch us between two separate forces. We're overwhelmed as it is. We've no chance._ In Kenobi's mind, the mark of a good tactician was knowing just when to pull out. With some hesitation, he sounded the retreat. "All men pull back," he yelled through his comlink, "pull back into the facility. We'll have to stage a point blank defense."

As the clones turned tail and ran, Obi-Wan stood firm, using his weapon and the Force to cover the clones as they escaped. _This battle is becoming more and more desperate by the minute_, he realised, _and the prefab base won't last long against the Confederacy tanks._ The next fifteen minutes would seem like a lifetime.

With most of the clone army behind him, beginning to fortify the command centre, Obi-Wan prepared for his own retreat. As he was about to turn around, an AAT appeared in front of him, ploughing towards the stranded Jedi. Stuck in place by sheer terror, Obi-Wan mustered strength from the Force and leapt over the tank, somersaulting, and landed behind it, amidst an ocean of attack droids. Stumbling as he hit the ground, Obi-Wan used the momentum of his tumble to carry him into the droid formation, his flashing blade cleaving droids into malfunctioning scrap. But he was still off-balanced from his poor landing, and dropped to the ground, falling hard, winding himself.

Up again in an instant, Obi-Wan fought the urge to take a deep breath, knowing that the Duro stink would more than likely knock him out, and raced towards the tank. _I can't let this thing reach the base before the shields are raised – and I'm the only one with the access codes!_ Struggling through a line of droids, Obi-Wan managed to get under the tank, force open the craft's hatchway with his lightsaber, and clamber into the vehicle. Both hands on the controls, he turned the tank around in a tight circle, ploughing through the droid ranks, and locked the steering column. Leaping out and charging to the clone base, he sensed the captured vehicle careen through the droid formation, causing widespread destruction and confusion.

But the battle was far from over.

*        *        *

Aboard the Republic cruiser _Canderassi_, General Mace Windu slung his cape over his neck and wrapped the coarse material around his muscular body. Made from a special blast-resistant material, the cape would protect from light blaster bolts and glancing shots, while allowing complete freedom of movement.

"How long until we arrive in the Duro system?" he shouted across the stark hangar. Normally, the large docking bay would be bustling with gunships reading for launch and flight crews, but with reports of a storm General Windu had decide to send down only one transport: a sleek capsule that would enter Duro atmosphere, and unload it's cargo: one fighter tank, Mace Windu's personal vehicle, and forty clone troopers. Meanwhile, the twelve cruisers in the fleet, led by the _Canderassi_, would engage the Confederacy space force. This would be the critical battle: if Grievous and Dooku were commanding the battle from orbit, they would be killed, and if as Windu suspected they had gone down to the planet, they would be stranded.

"Fifteen minutes!" called the crewman. _Come on, General Kenobi, fifteen minutes more to hold out. You can do it!_

*        *        *

Donning a fresh helmet, Obi-Wan checked the fuel regulator on his speeder bike and straddled onto the nimble swoop, revving up the engines in anticipation.

"General Kenobi, what are our orders?"

"Defend the station at all costs," he said quickly, eager to be away and look for his apprentice. Upon returning to the station, he had not been able to find Anakin anywhere, and the Force told him that the boy was in grave danger. "In fifteen minutes time General Windu will be arriving, and General Koon not long after that. Contact them when they arrive, brief them on the situation."

"Yes General. Good luck."

And then Obi-Wan was away, tearing over the barren landscape, the helmet's filter view scanning for any heat sources.

It spotted two and a half. _Anakin, Dooku, and Grievous_, guessed Obi-Wan, gunning the swoop's engines and speeding towards his lost apprentice. 

*        *        *

"You escaped me on Geonosis, boy," proclaimed Dooku, advancing towards Anakin, "but this time you will not be so lucky." From his fingertips shot a burst of lightning, but Anakin was quick; he caught the blast with his sword and deflected it away. Dooku grinned. "I see you have become far more powerful than we last met. But let me tell you something: so have I!" And with that, the Sith warrior dove towards Anakin, viciously slashing his lightsaber at the Jedi. Caught off guard, Anakin's parry was weak, and Dooku made the most of this sloppy swordsmanship, pressing his attack ruthlessly. "I expected more, Jedi. It seems you are not as powerful as my master thought."

"I'm more powerful than you can possibly imagine!" cried Anakin, and he reached out with the Force, using the same technique he had used on the clone trooper earlier to reach into Dooku's mind. But the old man blocked this mental strike with ease, and responded by clenching his fist. Anakin grasped at his collar, struggling to breathe.

"You are nothing before the Dark Side!" goaded Dooku, as Grievous watched on, lightsabers poised to defend the Count if Anakin somehow escaped his master's grasp. "Always remember that the only true power is that of the darkness!"

Releasing Anakin, Dooku stepped over the boy's fallen body and rose his curved lightsaber high. "And so it ends, my boy."

Anakin caught sight of something approaching from the east, and sneered. "Not today, Dooku!" Without warning, Obi-Wan Kenobi leapt from his speeder bike and landed beside Dooku, making a swing at the former Jedi without hesitation. Caught unawares, Dooku only just managed to parry, and soon found himself in a similar position to Anakin only moments earlier, driven back due to a poor move. But Dooku was far more resourceful than the boy, and soon got back into the fight, manoeuvring Kenobi towards Grievous, who had readied two sabers for the killing blow. The Jedi Knight seemed not to notice Grievous standing behind him, but ducked as the cyborg swung a mighty blow, rolling through the robot's legs and striking the General from behind.

Like a flash Grievous had brought a third arm up to parry Obi-Wan's blow, and the Jedi struggled to keep up with the intensity of Grievous' triple assault. "Padawan!" he called, "Anakin! I can't take him alone! I need you!"

Groaning with pain, Anakin nonetheless rose to fight, blustering towards Grievous with a war cry. Keeping Obi-Wan trapped between two sabers, he extended the third towards Anakin, catching the youngsters blow. As Obi-Wan darted between two blades, Anakin sparred with Grievous' third weapon, ever wary of the dark shadow of Dooku, who seemed to be watching, waiting for a moment to pounce.

"Master!" Anakin cried, seeing Obi-Wan struggle to counter a pummelling blow. _If only I could get around and help him!_ But Grievous' lightsaber kept him at bay, jousting towards him as if fencing.

_Can't go through, go over instead!_ Anakin leapt high, flipping over Grievous' head, but the General jumped to meet him, both warriors duelling in mid air. _At least this is giving Master Obi-Wan a break!_

Anakin was incorrect in that assumption. As he and Grievous fell back to the planet's inhospitable surface, Dooku had rounded on Obi-Wan. "Come now, Master Kenobi!" he taunted. "Can you not best a frail old man?" As if deliberately contradicting himself, Dooku whirled into action, his archaic duelling style fairly matched against Obi-Wan's defensive stance. Grievous landed beside him, throwing up a cloud of dust, and without breaking a step Obi-Wan smoothly transferred his lightsaber into his left hand and struck outwards, taking one of Grievous' robotic arms. Whilst this evened up the odds a little, it also left Obi-Wan exposed to Dooku's next strike, and the Jedi threw himself to the floor, rolling under Dooku's swing.

*        *        *

Operating the large turret that sat atop Duro Station, clone trooper CT6/239 peered through the rangefinder, trying to make out the best targets amidst the swarm of droids assaulting the base. He spotted an exposed AAT, locked it into the targeting computer, and fired a fully charged blast at the tank. The craft exploded in a ball of destructive fire, taking with it several droids. But that didn't slow down the advance one bit.

Beside CT6/239 sat his counterpart unit, CT7/239. CT7 was tasked with covering CT6 from enemy sniper fire, but in this particular operating he took a different approach to protecting the gunner. Hanging over one of the high rails on the station roof, he sliced broad swathes into the droid formation with his repeating laser cannon, cutting down the automatons as they reached the walls of the base. But there were too many droids to blast them all, and as the thought passed through CT7's mind a ringing shot from one of the tanks sailed past him, striking the turbolaser emplacement full on. Thrown over the railings by the ensuing explosion, CT7 plummeted to his death.

And yet the droids marched on.

*        *        *

"General Windu, we've arrived in the system!"

"Good. Any news from the planet?"

The image of a single clone trooper resolved on the holoprojector. "General," he reported, "we've been driven back to the base, but things aren't looking good. We've just lost our main turbolaser emplacement, and the droids have almost breached the walls."

"Yes. And where is Master Kenobi?"

"Looking for his Padawan, General. He left fifteen minutes ago. Our scanners have since noted a small skirmish to the right of the base, but we've been too busy to…"

Mace reached into the Force. "Anakin. Obi-Wan. Grievous. _Dooku._" It was time to act. "Listen, commander, I can supply forty clones to help you hold out a little longer. Once the storm breaks, I'll have my men send down an invasion force to assist you. Just hold out a little while longer. This battle isn't over for the Republic yet."

Cutting communications, he dashed to the launch pod. Anakin and Obi-Wan were going to need all the help they could get if they were to best the two strongest warriors of the Confederacy.

As the Republic cruisers moved to engage the battleships, a sleek black transport slipped towards the planet.

*        *        *

"Alright troops," explained General Windu, "here's the plan. In a few minutes I'm going to be leaving the pod, but the rest of you will remain on board. I've instructed the pilot to crash the ship into the centre of the droid army, so fasten your restraints. The ship will probably go up a minute or so after landing, so get out of here quickly. Your job will be to disrupt the droid army's advance. Any questions?"

Naturally, there were none. After all, the clone troopers of Kamino were genetically incapable of questioning their superiors.

*        *        *

The dark form drifting overhead was too fast and too black to be a cloud, but that was the only explanation Anakin could find for it.

Until General Windu dropped from its underbelly, electrum lightsaber burning, a bright amethyst flame.

Plummeting like a stone, Windu dropped his foot into Grievous' face hard, sending the General falling to the floor. With blinding speed and power Mace drove Grievous back, his one lightsaber more than a match for Grievous' three. Leaving the General stunned with a light blow to the shoulder, Mace turned on Dooku, leaving Anakin and Obi-Wan to deal with Grievous.

*        *        *

Plo Koon's fleet entered the battle from above, the five cruisers spearing into the heart of the Separatist formation. Targeting the bulbous cores of the enemy battleships, the Republic armada was able to inflict heavy damage to the Confederacy warships, destroying two and leaving the rest in very bad shape.

Aboard the bridge of the _Violator_, Kneb Knor studied the battle maps with increasing trepidation. General Windu's starfleet had them pinned down, and General Koon's armada was striking at will, tearing the Confederacy ships to pieces.

"Call a full retreat," stuttered Kneb Knor, "we can't hold out against the Republic fleet!"

"But we'll lose Duro!" cried the Neimodian bridge officer. "All this planning…months of it…dozens of systems sacrificed to prepare for this assault…for nothing!"

"Unless we leave now, then we will die at Duro. Of that I have no doubt. We are needed elsewhere, officer. There are thousands of contested systems all across the galaxy, and we are needed there!"

One by one, the tattered cruisers shot into hyperspace, leaving the victorious Republic fleet alone in orbit around the planet.

*        *        *

"Jedi Kenobi," spat Grievous, "you have thwarted our efforts countless times before. But today, you fall."

Spinning his three lightsabers in a blinding vortex, Grievous leapt towards Obi-Wan. In a motion too fast to follow, even for Grievous' cybernetically enhanced vision, Obi-Wan blocked one lightsaber, twisted under another and dived over the last one. Now it was Grievous' turn to dodge, as Kenobi let loose a fierce backhand stroke.

Making the most of his escape, Grievous grabbed the charging Anakin with his razor-sharp talons, and slammed the youngster into Duro's rocky surface. Moaning, Anakin sent a jolt of electricity running through the General's leg, leaving Grievous' electronic systems trying to recover from the ion burst.

His normally adroit reflexes made sluggish by the electric burst, Grievous did his best to counter Obi-Wan's rushing attack, but found himself driven backwards, away from Dooku and Master Windu.

That duel was more evenly matched, Dooku of course having no vital systems to disrupt. In fact, the Force itself seemed to be absent from the bout, neither Dooku or Mace using any Force strikes or leaps, although in reality both were drawing heavily from the Force to replenish their energy.

Dooku had underestimated his former master at Geonosis, and he had learnt well from this mistake. During his time as a Jedi, Dooku had held a deep respect for Mace Windu, and often sparred with him. Windu's confident saber technique was a far cry from Dooku's more distanced stance, but the two styles were perfectly matched in the duel. With Dooku holding his saber at arm's length, almost an extension of his arm, none of Windu's heavy strikes could make contact with Dooku. But likewise, Dooku's light thrusts were easily turned aside by Windu's strong parries.

Both men were too experienced to be fooled by touches such as feints and swift changes of direction, and both men knew this, so no energy was wasted executing such moves. The duel was no less than a test of skill, both warriors waiting for the inevitable mistake. One moment Mace had the upper hand, driving Dooku back a few steps, but the next the Sith had regained it, forcing Mace backwards. The duel could go on for hours.

Switching to one hand, Mace beat his blade from side to side, trying to loosen Dooku's grip, before making a hard overhead slash. Dooku's blade rose to intercept, catching the blow perfectly, throwing Mace off guard and giving the Count a shot at victory. Dooku made all the right moves, with perfect timing, and a lesser foe would have been killed on the spot. But Windu recovered almost instantly, and by the time Dooku had brought his saber around for the killing slash the Jedi Master was back in action.

Both duellists began to pin their hopes on the outcome of the other battle. If Obi-Wan and Anakin could defeat the General, Mace would win. But if Grievous joined Dooku, Mace would lose.

Nevertheless, the fight continued.

*        *        *

Even with a huge chunk of the droid army missing, decimated by the reinforcements and their kamikaze run, the clone troopers were still being overrun. Most of the clone trooper reinforcements were now dead, with only three left, struggling to reach the fortress, and unless Republic capitalised on the swath cut into the droid formation, and quickly, their sacrifice would all be for nothing

"Commander," called a green-trimmed Lieutenant, monitoring one of the many battle computers, "the skies are clearing. The storm appears to be over."

"Message from the _Canderassi_," called another Lieutenant, this one a communications officer. "Commander, reinforcements on their way!"

"Good," nodded the commander, his genetic coding not allowing him to feel any euphoria at this latest development. "Move the troops forward."

*        *        *

A grin spread over Obi-Wan's face as he continued to drive Grievous backwards, knocking the droid general about like a rag doll, overwhelming his sluggish defences.

This grin turned to an expression of dismay as Grievous' systems came back online, and Obi-Wan's lightsaber was wrenched from his grasp by a lightning strike. "Anakin!" called the Jedi as he dove backwards, narrowly avoiding a lightsaber to the face. As Skywalker leapt towards Grievous, the General's torso began to spin wildly, and Anakin felt his robotic wrist shatter as his saber jarred against the whirlpool of energy. Resigned to using his off hand, Anakin tried his best to put up a fight against the whirling General, spotting his master running in from the side. Grievous launched a mighty kick at the charging Obi-Wan, knocking him back several meters, before slowing his centrifuge attack and striking at Anakin with a powerful strike. The young Padawan almost failed to meet it.

Obi-Wan was back again. "Don't you Jedi ever learn?" laughed Grievous derisively, dropping a saber and catching it with his foot. Stood on a single leg, Grievous engaged Anakin with two sabers, whilst holding Obi-Wan off with the saber grasped in his outstretched foot.

*        *        *

"General, the Confederacy fleet are retreating!"

Plo Koon considered giving chase and thought better of it. "Show me the coordinates of the _Violator_," he asked, and saw that the command cruiser was furthest forward of the Confederacy fleet – meaning it would be the last to escape.

"Everything tells me Dooku and Grievous are planetside," reasoned Koon, "but we had best be sure. Bring all ships to bear on the _Violator_."

*        *        *

"The fleet is away, Captain," called the Neimodian bridge officer, "and I suggest we leave too!"

"We _are_ leaving!" cried Kneb Knor, "just very slowly!"

The Neimodian was shaking violently, staring out of the viewport, toward the safety of a faraway galaxy. Maybe a nice estate on Bespin, or a resort on Zeltros. At this moment in time, stuck in the middle of a huge enemy fleet in a damaged cruiser, he would even settle for a hovel on Tatooine. "It would help if we had more than one engine…"

"I'm sure it would!" muttered Kneb Knor, sick of the cowardly Neimodian's constant whining. _If they fear pain and death so much, then why did they start a war? _Noticing a movement of enemy ships on the battle monitor, Kneb Knor charged across to the viewport. "I have a bad feeling about this," he said as the Republic fleet moved towards the _Violator_. His bad feeling stayed with him until his final, fiery death.

*        *        *

Two _Acclamator_ cruisers had made it down into the atmosphere, their thick underside armour plating just soaking up laser damage. One cruiser unloaded its troops and tanks at the rear of the droid army, and the second took a more direct approach – simply parking their ship atop a legion of battle droids. Rocket thrusters burnt away at the spindly droids, and the clone troopers disembarked onto a droid scrap yard.

The original clone force, previously holed up in Duro base, had now come out, charging relentlessly at the droid forces. Trapped between two incoming armies, with a huge _Acclamator_ in their midst, firing away with its colossal turbolasers, the Separatist army was swiftly defeated.

*        *        *

One battle that would not be so easily won was the duel. Grievous often stamped his robotic claws into the dirty rock that made up Duro's surface, sending up a dust cloud and blinding his foes, but still the Jedi held out. "You are worthy foes," admitted Grievous, "but I take comfort in the fact that I shall eventually destroy you!"

"Don't be so sure," grunted Obi-Wan, leaping towards Grievous with a mighty slash. _Anakin, you know what to do!_ Obi-Wan made a series of lunging strikes, deliberately overstretching, committing himself.

"You fight well," commended the General, catching each of Obi-Wan's attacks on his blade, "but know this before you die. You commit yourself too early and easily." With Obi-Wan's lunges leaving him open, Grievous reared for the killing strike. _Hurry up, Padawan!_

"Know this before you die," yelled Anakin, "you should never leave a Jedi unwatched!" With a cry he drove his saber into Grievous' back, splintering the General's spine and dropping him to the floor with a thud. Standing over the General, Anakin lifted his saber and yelled, "And now it ends, General!"

Grievous rolled onto his back and brought up a saber to deflect Anakin's blow. "You are strong, young one, and I can now understand my Master's interest in you. Soon this Galaxy will change, boy, and my final lesson to you is this: do not fight the change. Do not try to forestall the inevitable. You must simply embrace it."

Anakin hesitated, puzzled by these words. Was Grievous trying to _recruit_ him? The next sensation he felt was a sharp warmth across his cheek as Grievous' razor claws raked his face, the wounded General sprinting towards the _Solar Sailor._

"Anakin!" cried Obi-Wan, "you had the chance to finish this war!"

"I'm sorry, Master. I just…I hesitated, and he seized the chance."

"What did he say to you?"

"Nothing, Master. Now let's rejoin Master Windu." Anakin didn't want to talk about Grievous' little speech. He didn't know why, but the more he thought about the General's parting words, the more they made sense. And that scared him. 

*        *        *

His wounded chest sagging, Grievous pounded across the surface of Duro, propelled by his high-powered robotic legs. He knew the Jedi were probably giving chase, but he didn't care. There was no way they'd match his speed, not even with the Force.

With the _Sailor_ in range he accessed his internal computer to check how the battle was going. He was enraged too see that the ground forces had been decimated, and only one ship remained in orbit, his flagship. _Why isn't Kneb Knor running?_ he fumed, _that whelp will cost me my cruiser!_

He arrived at the _Solar Sailor_ only to see Mace Windu engaged in mortal combat with the Count. Dooku's eyes flared, thinking that Grievous had dispatched the two Jedi, but then he saw the horrific gash across the General's midsection.

"The battle is lost!" called Grievous, "Only the _Violator _remains, but it is about to be destroyed."

Mace gave Dooku a meaningful stare. "In just a few minutes you'll have half the Republic fleet on top of you."

Dooku's eyes darkened. "No doubt," he acknowledged. "Let us flee, General."

Grievous charged in towards Mace, but Skywalker had done some serious damage to the General, and Windu easily lopped off another of Grievous' arms. But this left him open to Dooku's simple stab, and Mace felt his breath leave him, and keeled over, hitting the floor hard.

"Is he dead?" asked Grievous, regarding Windu's fallen body with some suspicion.

"I doubt it," acknowledged Dooku, "but we _must _leave. Unless we take advantage of the _Violator_'s destruction…"

"Yes," nodded Grievous. "Skywalker and his master are not far behind."

The two boarded the _Sailor_, and the graceful ship sliced through the Duro atmosphere, vile as ever.

Far below, Mace Windu stirred, clutching the side of his torso. A putrid lightsaber burn festered there, but thankfully no internal damage had been done. Lifting himself up, Windu watched the _Sailor _leave Duro, a look of contemplation on his face.

"Another day, Master Dooku. Another day."


	4. Epilogue

The Sith citadel on the planet Raithmir was a truly beautiful monument, in a twisted, perverse way. A thousand burning lightsabers bordered its towering spires, the captured weapons of countless fallen Jedi, lighting the darkness that engulfed the ancient world. Thunder crackled from a dark, planet-wide cloud, accompanied by a hail of never-ending rain. Raithmir was a world taken over by the dark side.

Standing on the upper balcony of their fortress, sheltered from the storm by a tattered durasteel veil, Darth Sidious and Darth Tyranus looked out across the barren land. 

"So Duro still belongs to the Republic," Sidious began in his crackling voice.

"No, my Master," conceded Tyranus, lowering his eyes. "We held the advantage, but were eventually outnumbered."

"And General Grievous was damaged in the attack," continued the Sith master, "could it be he is not as indestructible as we believed?"

Dooku's face rose, smiling. "You will be most pleased to learn the identity of the Jedi who wounded Grievous, Master."

A smirk began to tug at Sidious' sullen face. "Skywalker?" he asked, second guessing Dooku. "This is a most interesting development. All the while the boy walks the thin line between the light and the darkness, and as his power grows, so will his temptation."

Stepping out from under the veranda, Sidious opened himself to the brunt of the storm, feeling its destructive energy, feeding himself from the unleashed power of the tempest. "Duro is of little matter, my apprentice. We will find another avenue into the Core. Although I hesitate to call this campaign a true victory, let it be known that Anakin Skywalker has taken another step into the darkness. Let it be known that everything is proceeding as we have planned."

The ferocious wailing of the storm continued, echoing the mocking howl of evil.

*        *        *

Obi-Wan sat in his quarters aboard the _Courage_, regarding the twinkling star constellations visible from his viewport with a melancholy contemplation. _Yes, we won here today, but can it truly be called a victory? Duro is not the only route towards Coruscant, and we committed a huge portion of our fleet to this battle. Who knows what contingency the Separatists have in place? Even know they may be preparing to strike Borleias, or Empress Teta, or Reecee…_

Obi-Wan exhaled deeply. He was worrying too much. But something nagged at him, something that he struggled to define. _Is it the way of the Jedi to lead a war, to submit our foes to open aggression? As my Padawan grows in power, I can feel the darkness close in around him. In the Mandalorian War, the few Jedi who did fight came back tainted, eventually reforming the Sith._

Ah yes, the Sith. The sworn enemies of the Jedi. _That is why I must fight this war,_ Obi-Wan decided, _I fight to stop the Sith. The Republic may be a lot of things, corrupt and arrogant, but they at least offer hope. Something the Sith would never truly give. _

_So there it is. I continue this fight, to save the Galaxy from Sith domination. But things have changed, things have been changing ever since Geonosis…since Naboo, even. The balance of power is tipping, the Dark Side grows. And how can I sure that once this war is over we will not have become everything that we have sworn to fight? _

Obi-Wan wondered just what _we_ meant. The Republic? The Jedi? His Padawan?

Obi-Wan stared through the viewport, looking at a Galaxy slipping toward a pool of darkness. __


End file.
